The Scientific Method
by lucyrinner
Summary: In which Fitz and Simmons have If/Then theories, failed pilot studies, and many unproved pieces of conjecture. (Oh, and plenty of moments.) Present for the Fitzsimmons Valentine's Day Exchange on Tumblr.


_**A/N: **_My valentine's gift for the very lovely professionalfangirl from Tumblr who asked for a liver in the fridge scenario- this probably is not anything close to what you were thinking of, but I really hope you like it!

PS: Shoutout to the ladies over at the Fitzsimmons Network for providing me with names I didn't know I needed until I heard them. You guys are the best!)

PPS: Sorry for not updating Flashes. I have a lot written for it and it's coming soon, pinky-swear.

* * *

_**Purpose**_

She's never really too had much without him.

Sure, she has family and school and her own intelligence to keep her company, but it hasn't been quite the same since the Academy. She's more vibrant, happier, she's understood.

But the Pre-Fitz time was awkward and forced and many times uncomfortable, never truly fitting in. She was the small girl with the big brain, the one who always sat up straight and wore unwrinkled collars and cared a little too much.

She went to the Academy to learn to be the best of the best, to improve other's lives and save the world and make her mark and every other goal a naive graduate wants to accomplish. So when she meets him, the snarky, clever, bit-too-bright-for-his-age, she begins to hate him. He's her adversary, her competitor, and it wasn't unusual at all for Jemma Simmons to be competitive.

They really are opposites: her notes are color coded and highlighted, and he's worn that shirt twice this week.

"You know, together we could be just as smart," he says to her quietly one day, in the middle of a particularly hard lab that was giving both of them trouble.

She looks up from her pages of annotations and diagrams and he keeps his head down, eyes averted, nervous.

There's an awkward silence and he's blushing worse than he thought possible, he just knows he his when she scoots her stool closer and asks him what chemical reaction is exhibited by aliphatic hydrocarbons, and a few weeks later, a certain mash-up of their name spreads like wildfire and every single time Professor Kessler grades their lab sheets, she can't help but feel accomplished.

She wishes she could've gotten her head out of her arse quicker- for two people so smart, they spent a lot of time hating each other.

(Of course, she'd never tell him this- he may be her best friend, but his big head needn't get bigger)

* * *

_**Research**_

It starts when his mother breaks the news to him on a Skype call one afternoon.

"I'm sorry, Leo, but I don't think we can swing it this year," she says sadly, looking at her son with fond eyes.

He pretends as though he's unaffected, as though he's indifferent to this small bit of news. Insignificant, unimportant, trivial, really.

But he is affected, and he's just depressed when Jemma starts packing for home the day before Christmas break. They've been friends for a while now, she knows when he's upset.

"Fitz," she says with a smile, zipping up her suitcase.

"Pack your bags."

As it turns out, he has fun at the Simmons'. Her family only made, like, eighty jokes about Jemma's 'new boyfriend', and Fitz is pretty sure he will forever treasure the moment Jemma's mother pulled out the family album one night, and, around the fire, he got to learn about every science fair and awkward haircut his best friend had.

The next Christmas, they do it the other way around- Fitz's mom treats her like a daughter and wouldn't stop dropping hints about grandchildren, and his face is

redder than he thought was possible.

* * *

_**Hypothesis**_

They're studying for finals, the finals that will decide if they can leave early and the finals that decide where their future will go, and Fitz is pretty sure that if Simmons drinks one more cup of tea she might actually explode from caffeine intake.

"Alright, we need a break," he declares at around 2:30 AM, scrubbing his face with his eyes, clearing his books out of the way just enough so he can actually see table.

She doesn't even look away from her book, just holds up her finger and shushes him.

"Simmons," he begins, going to the fridge to try and find something semi-edible.

"Just take a few minutes, get something to eat."

There's dark circles under her eyes when she finally looks up, frowning at him.

"As if there's anything fit for human consumption in that fridge, Fitz. The safest choice would be the pack of frozen waffles, and those expired two months ago."

"So you don't have time to take a break, but you have time to be sarcastic?"

She smiles and begins to study again, and he orders a pizza from the poor delivery guys across campus. He knows she likes the dreadful ones, covered in things like green peppers and olives and other healthy things that shouldn't be on a pizza, so he orders it despite his best interest.

She smiles and him and finally gets out of her chair, shutting her book and sighing. They both plop on the couch, completely exhausted, both physically and mentally, when she lays her head on his shoulder.

It's nothing new, the contact. Their lack of personal space has been going on for a long time, so it shouldn't have startled Fitz the way it did. But his eyes get wider and he becomes very aware of his breathing, which for some reason is getting louder and -

She closes her eyes and her breathing slows to the point where Fitz is pretty sure she's asleep and he laughs quietly, brushing hair back from her eyes. He gently wraps his arms around her, pulling her in closer, glad she's finally sleeping. They haven't been getting a lot of rest this semester, between the accelerated timeline of their impending graduation and, well, the stress of their impending graduation. He smiles fondly at her and starts to feel exhausted himself.

Before he even realizes he's doing it, he presses a small kiss to her hair, soft and gentle to make sure she doesn't wake up.

At that exact moment, he hears a knock at the door and the pizza delivery guy yelling out "Veggie pizza for Fitz-Simmons?" and the moment is completely over.

Jemma pops up and berates him for letting her fall asleep, and he berates himself for what he was doing, whatever that was.

The universe gave him a sign in the form of the guy from Pizza Hut, and he's not going to ignore it.

* * *

_**Experiment**_

She's in the lab, working on a simple experiment when he walks through the door.

It's sudden, as though he didn't realize that she was in here, all set up with a lab coat and test tubes and he suddenly has the biggest urge to run as fast as he can in the opposite direction.

Or, at least, that's how Jemma thinks he looks.

They stare at each other for a few seconds, not quite sure whether they should both leave or say something as if there's a set of unspoken rules.

"Oh, uh- hello, Fitz," she says cautiously.

He doesn't even respond back, just gives an unenthusiastic look of acknowledgement and goes back to the task at hand.

He shuffles around messily for a few minutes and Simmons finds she just can't concentrate, and Simmons has to be able to concentrate, this isn't a lab for an elementary school child, this is a lab that could save lives.

"Is this really how it's going to be?" She says frustratedly, gripping the test tube tightly and raising her voice. He doesn't even turn around, just freezes for a few seconds and continues going through the boxes.

"Fine, then." She finishes and turns around, putting the different samples into the centrifuge.

He does this for quite some time, and, once he's done, he moves to other boxes, being disruptive and foolish and all Jemma wants to do is throw the centrifuge at him if it'll get him to talk to her. Anything. She will literally take anything.

She gets an eye roll when he finds a liver from her last experiment in the fridge, but it's not much- she misses the snarky Scottish comments that would've come with it.

* * *

_**Analysis**_

"I'm sorry," she blurts out on the way home, tears silently streaming down her face.

He looks at her, all battered and bruised, hair ruffled and clothes torn.

"God, Jems, why the hell are you sorry?"

"Because it ended up like this," she whispers through tears, so quietly that Fitz almost can't hear her over the intrusive noise of the helicarrier they're flying in.

"It's not your fault."

She unbuckles herself suddenly and walks towards the front of the carrier, and Fitz cannot think of anything that would be necessary for her to grab right now.

"Simmons!" He yells, but she keeps her distance, talking with May.

Fitz wants to punch a wall, a person, anything. He's been keeping his head down around her lately. He doesn't quite know how to put it- accident? The 'incident'? 'That one time we got stuck at the bottom of the ocean and pretty much told you that I loved you'?

That had been months ago. A months of not getting to speak to her best friend in the entire world.

Months of awkward glances and stutters from Fitz and no way to be alone with each other for more than ten seconds without someone wanting to run away.

She's covered in small cuts and her hands have blood on them (not hers, thankfully) and her hair is quickly escaping the bun she put it in.

Without another word, Fitz unbuckles himself, walks towards her, grabs her hand and pulls her to the back of the helicarrier.

"Fitz, what-"

"Something we should've done a long time ago."

He puts his hands on her waist and pulls her closer, and normally she couldn't help but wonder where he learned that move but, at the moment, she's too busy kissing him.

* * *

_**Conclusion**_

She wakes up to quiet, for once. No sounds of feet on the floor and no groans when one of those small feet end up accidentally in someone's ribs, acting as an alarm clock.

It's peaceful, something she doesn't get often.

Jemma rolls over, reaching to the right side of the bed and finds that it's cold. It's normal sometimes, when they're working on a new project or if there's an emergency.

(there are plenty of different things that constitute as an emergency- from bad dreams to national security.)

She hears footsteps outside their room and suddenly the blinds are opened, and she gets up to see a tray of breakfast waiting for her in Fitz's arms, Kate and Tony each carrying a rose, both yelling and jumping up and down as they see her.

"Mommy!" The kids yell, running up to jump on the bed to give her a hug.

"Be careful, Tony!" Fitz yells with a smile, knowing how… enthusiastic the twins could get with their hugs.

Jemma lays back in bed for a moment, enjoying both of her children wrapping her in a hug, while she waves Fitz over. He puts the tray on the nightstand and gets on the bed and lays next to her, kissing her on the cheek.

"Happy Valentine's day, love," he whispers.

* * *

**Feedback is more than appreciated! Thanks for reading!**


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